Harry Potter: The Next Generation
by Lisassa
Summary: The Dark Lord is defeated and all in Harry's generation has grown up and had kids of their own. What happens when said kids mingle with one seemingly evil person? Will they succumb to the darkness that threatens to surround them? Or will they be strong like their parents and fight the battles that now ensue? Rated M for some violence and language.
1. Prologue

**This is my first story on this site, so please bear with me while I manage out the kinks.**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own any of the Harry Potter story characters, other than my own OC. The plot, however; is entirely mine.**

**This is a story I had worked on before but ended up discarding before I learned the potential of the world of fanfiction. Hopefully it still turns out good. I know the first chapter is short, my prologues usually are. Bear with me, though, the others won't be this bad...**

**All feedback is welcome, except that of the destructive kind. Try to build, not destroy.**

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**Harry Potter: The Next Generation** by Lisassa

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The sky exploded with thunder, lightning setting it ablaze. One could hear the waves crashing against the rocky shore, being the only thing to distract you from the screams. It is said the castle of a prison itself can drive you crazy. Maybe it can, but it had no effect on Bellatrix Lestrange.

Being already crazed, Bellatrix merely sat in the middle of her dank, rotting cell plotting her vengeance on the world. A smile crept upon her face as she thought of the child she bore. Thanks to her master, she kept his semen stored safely until the right time came.

It wasn't that he had doubts about the foolish child, he simply wanted to plan for everything. Bile inched its way up her throat at the thought of the _boy_ who defeated her master. One day her child would raise up and smite those who stand against her.

Her thoughts drifted to her pawn, her own flesh and blood. Bellatrix relished the day she would be free to rein hell. After all, a child borne of Bellatrix Lestrange and Lord Voldemort _had_ to be nothing but pure evil.


	2. Birthday Girl

**This around the average length of my chapters, though some may vary on their respective ends of the spectrum. This may very well become a story series, though I'm not sure. I should probably get through this one first, shouldn't I?**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own any part of the original Harry Potter story or characters. I only own this basic plot and my own OC. **

**Feedback is always welcome, except the destructive kind. Try to build, not destroy.**

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**Harry Potter: The Next Generation **by Lisassa

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"Alex! Alex! Get up, get up!" I woke to a newly five-year old jumping on my bed. Groaning, I shifted onto my back just in time for her Superman leap onto my stomach.

"Oof! Uncle!"

The little curly-haired blonde smiled, showing off her missing bottom front tooth grandly. I couldn't help but smile at her contagious innocence as a mischievous glint sparkled in her ocean blue eyes.

"Guess what day it is!" she exclaimed, bouncing on my stomach.

"Hmm. It couldn't be Monday, could it?" I joked, knowing all too well the special occasion. It was impossible to forget or go unawares with the little one counting down the days since the start of the month.

"No, silly. It's my birfday!" she exclaimed jovially. I my ignorance was rewarded with another Superman leap to the gut.

"Really?" I giggled, almost rendered breathless with the sudden pressure on my diaphragm. "How old are you?"

"Five!" She held up the respective amount of stubby little fingers.

I chuckled. "Are you sure? You look older than five to me."

"Noo!" She buried her face into my blanked only moments before I scooped her up. Cradling her carefully, I attacked her middle with ruthless tickling, listening delightfully as she shrieked her laughter. It was a brilliant way to start my day, along with hers, as well, I presumed. Knowing of my utter hatred for mornings, the sweet little girl tended to avoid me and my room until I've at least had my breakfast.

Mike, however; was a different story.

The door was opened to show a boy about my age with red hair and lightning green eyes. He wore his usual white t-shirt and jeans, hair spiked in every possible direction. I briefly wondered if he ever actually combed his hair out, or if he just enjoyed the disheveled look. The little girl squirmed out of my grip and scrambled off the bed, leaping into his arms.

"Mikey!" she squealed in sheer delight. There was quite possibly nobody in the world that she loved more than him. He had adopted her as a little sister the moment she appeared on the orphanage doorstep, and she reciprocated almost immediately.

Mike grunted as she thrusted herself on him. "How's the birthday girl?" he asked, adjusting her in his arms. Even though she was very young, she could get quite heavy. Of course, since he was the one whom's arms she occupied on almost an hourly basis, he had grown used to the burden.

"Alex forgot my birfday!" she whined, crossing her arms and puffing out her lower lip in a mock pout. I had to fight to stifle my laughter at the sight. There was no one she worked that look on more than Mike, likewise no one being more immune to it than him.

"Did she now?" He raised a questioning eyebrow at me yet his eyes threw me a knowing look. It always amazed me how his face and eyes could tell two entirely different stories. It was like he was composed of two books; one the story he wanted everyone else to read, the other only I was privy to knowing.

I shrugged, playing along with the scene. "What can I say? I'm just terrible at remembering things, right Lilly?"

"Sissy!" she nearly screamed. She hated it when people messed up her name, and we all knew it. It was a cruel game that only Mike and I were ever permitted to play, albeit _sparingly_.

Mike laughed. "Hey, Sissy, I gotta talk to Alex about older kid stuff. Why don't you go put on that dress Nancy got you yesterday?" Sissy nodded and he put her down. She made sure I promised to do her hair up like I said I would days ago before the party and left, making sure to shut the door behind her.

"You know Sarah would kill us if she saw that door closed."

Mike shrugged, tossing himself onto the space beside me. "Oh well. It's not like we'd do anything." I chuckled. Being as inseparable as we were, everyone thought we would end up together. So far that hasn't happened, but that never stopped people from talking, especially Nancy. Ugh, that nasty seaweed-haired girl could really get under my skin with her stories.

"So how are you?" He asked casually yet cautiously, playing with a bit of blanket to seem nonchalant. _Not again!_

I rolled my eyes and got off the bed. Why did he have to start this so early in the morning? If it wasn't for the fact that he was my best friend I would have smacked him for bothering me just for that. Can't a girl have a moping period? Walking into my closet I picked out a comfortable grey low-cut t-shirt that matched my eyes and some tight skinny jeans. I didn't have to worry about Mike peeking. He knew all too well what would happen if I caught him doing so. Good thing castration never really appealed to him.

I walked out, noticing he was now leaning on the wall between the closet and makeup table, arms crossed, facing the latter. "You can't keep running from it forever." he warned as I maneuvered around him and sat on the comfy swivel chair facing the mirrored vanity table.

"I can try." he shook his head as I started brushing out my elbow-length hair. He sight, taking over in the tedious (to me) task. It was strange how I preferred he do it instead of myself. It was somewhat soothing, allowing me to focus instead on my face or thoughts.

"You need to talk about what happened. Keeping it locked up inside won't help you at all." he reasoned.

"And who said I wanted or needed any help?" I snapped, a little too sharply. I didn't mean to, but his constant pestering and everyone's pity-filled looks were getting to me. I didn't need pity, and I didn't want to talk about it. I just wanted to bury the whole thing deep in my subconscious. Unlucky for me, Mike would never let me do that.

He stopped with my hair momentarily, throwing me a deadly glare. I returned one to him through the mirror. It was a violent battle of wills that never left our locked gaze. If anyone else was watching or caught in the middle they'd probably be terrified of an ensuing bloodbath. I wouldn't blame them if they just upped and ran. "That sentence in itself tells me you do." He growled.

I looked down, surrendering the fight. He continued brushing after a moment's pause. I don't think he actually expected me to relent; I usually never did. Although, he had a point. Never once had I hesitated to ask for his help with anything, even stuff most people would deem too embarrassing to involve the opposite sex. This being said, one of the most obvious tells to me being severely bothered by something was when I refused his assistance.

"I just don't want to talk about it." I muttered. Looking at him through the mirror, once more, we again locked eyes. Mike saw for the first time since he found me broken and hysterical that day the pain I held inside. "To do so means I have to relive it again."

Mike put down the brush and spun me around to face him. He knelt so that we were level with each other. Cupping my face in his hands, he spoke. "I care about you too much to watch you hurt like this all the time. I understand it hurts, and I know the memories are still fresh, but I am always here. Whatever happened, you can tell me. I can't help you if I don't know what your ailment is."

A single tear fled my eye and he wiped it away with his thumb. In that moment I did the only thing I could do. Wrapping my arms around his neck I hugged hm and cried. He held me tight as I bawled like a baby. Why did he always have to break through my walls like they were made of tissue paper?

After my tears were expelled and my sniffling subsided, we parted. He wiped away my tears, sadness etched into his features. He hated seeing me this way almost as much as I hated feeling it. A knock on the door told us breakfast was ready. Mike leaned in and kissed my forehead.

"Meet me at the picture tonight if you're ready to talk." This was more of an expectation then an offer. He knew what I needed most, and he had no problem delivering it. He also knew my pride, so he was always crafty in the ways he would draw me in to receive what it was I needed. By adding the simple word "if" to his seemingly un-thought out sentence, he had issued a challenge to my subconscious. By complying I accepted the help I was steadily denying myself. But by refusing I risked hurting his feelings by sending the message that I didn't trust him with my terrors. It was a lose-lose situation that either way ended up in tears. The only question would be who's they would belong to.

I nodded and he left, leaving me to my thoughts. Turning to the mirror I saw a tear-stained ten-year old who's seen far too much in her lifetime. She looked scared and defeated, almost like she carried a secret that tore a hole through her soul.

Taking a deep breath I cleaned off my face and left, preparing myself for the bountiful happiness of a five-year old. If only she knew she was most possibly one of the only people left in the world that could make me smile through the endless turmoil.


	3. Remembrance

**This is actually a shorter version of what I originally saw would happen. It does get dark, involving the suggestion of rape, so if that isn't your cup of tea I wouldn't suggest you continue. Please bear with me, it will get to the actual Hogwarts part soon. Probably in either the next chapter or the one after. Thanks for those who have reviewed so far, and I hope you like this chapter as well. Your support means a lot to me, as this is the first time I've shown any of my writing to such a large audience.**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own any part of the original Harry Potter story or characters. I only own this basic plot and my own OC.**

**Feedback is always welcome, except the destructive kind. Try to build, not destroy.**

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**Harry Potter: The Next Generation **by Lisassa

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I walked down the hallway nervously that night. I still had no idea how I would tell Mike what had happened. Everyone else could be fooled by my fake smile through the birthday festivities, but he knew me too well let that last forever. In a way I was grateful. He kept me from wallowing too deep within myself and succumbing to a sea of self-pity. I can honestly say I have no idea how together I'd be today if I didn't have him.

I stopped fretting about the deliverance of my message the moment I saw him. He was sitting in the bay window seat facing the nature scene we had painted together last summer. It wasn't finished, being we wanted to do more over the years, so you could somewhat see a brick wall behind it. It's because of our art that we've code-named it "the picture".

Sarah said there used to be a forest around this wing when it was built, but the town got bigger and the forest is now gone. She also told us this place used to be bustling with children when You-Know-Who reigned, almost all of them victims of his wrath. Now it had two closed off wings and barely twenty kids. I guess that's a good thing, but it made for a lonely life once friends were made and cliques established.

I sighed, resigning myself to approach. Then a devilish smile found its way upon my lips. I crept up silently, never getting a chance like this. "Boo!" I said, just barely over a whisper into his unsuspecting ear. It had the effect I was hoping for. Nearly jumping out of his skin, Mike bashed his head on the wall behind him, just about falling off the bench in the process. I burst into uncontrollable laughter.

"Dammit, Alex!" he yelled, clearly irritated. This did nothing to stifle my giggles, however; only succeeding in making it worse. It was rare to see Mike so disconnected from everything, so a chance to scare him out of his wits was something i just couldn't pass up. "Are you done?" he asked indignantly, rubbing the back of his head.

I nodded a yes but my body shook with its own no. It wasn't often I found something this funny, and it was never good since it only ever happened when I was putting myself under a lot of stress. I held my sides as tears streamed down my face. I couldn't stop laughing, and it hurt. Seeming to realize this, Mike sat me down in front of him and patted my back gently.

It wasn't long before my laughter subsided and the tears grew in number. I had transitioned to the feelings I truly held inside; the guilt I had for keeping it hidden from Mike, the stress of holding everything in, the pain of the memory. I leaned against him as I let it all out for the first time since it happened.

Mike held me tight, letting me expel my pent-up feelings. Rubbing my arms in an attempt to soothe me, he hummed a tune similar to the lullaby he used whenever I had a nightmare. It wasn't uncommon for me to sneak off into the boys' ward to gain comfort from the one person who wouldn't make me feel like a child. He understood the battles my mind faced were quite real to me, and because of this he kept his door unlocked at all times.

Enough time passed and eventually my rattled sobs were reduced to sporadic hiccups. It was then that I told him my story, the one no one else would ever be able to hear.

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Alex hardly remembered the life she left behind when she came to Sarah's orphanage. She recalled how she lived in a dirty cell before she was discovered. Five years went by and not one person knew of her existence. Save for the woman who brought her there. It was this dreadful place that occupied the majority of her nightmares.

All she remembered was the combination of the screams and the always torrential ocean fighting for the dominance of her eardrums. The woman who hid her, her _mother, _sometimes sought to soothe her fears, sometimes cackled at the battle of noise, sometimes screamed against was no emotional balance in Alex's crucial developmental stages. Maybe this was why she flitted between emotions so easily and so often. She often found herself wondering how everyone could focus on one feeling at a time when she felt everything at once. It made everyone else seem stagnant and boring.

After she was finally discovered she was given reprieve of the hell she found herself in. It was at this time she came upon Sarah and the children she raised, and when she met Mike. This was the place she learned to call home from five to ten. Everything was great; until she wanted to take a walk by herself three months ago.

She had always known she was a witch, Sarah made sure to raise all the kids with this knowledge. So she didn't have any issues until about three months ago. Her nightmares that had plagued her as a small child resurfaced, forcing her to relive her earliest years during her sleeping hours. Mike was the only one to know about these dreams, being that he alone could calm her fears and soothe her into a peaceful sleep.

The day she decided to take a walk was the day she'd had enough. Racked with exhaustion and clouded with confusion, Alex donned her tight but warm spring jacket and left before Mike could demand to go with. She knew it was wrong to just up and leave like that and disappear with only a note to explain her absence, but she desperately needed some time alone to think.

As she walked she pondered what had possibly triggered her nightmares. Other than the random one here and there, she had pretty much stopped them from disturbing her slumber ever since Mike got her the dreamcatcher. It was a little thing, web no bigger than her palm. he had hung it up over her bed for her seventh birthday, saying it would get rid of her bad dreams. Three years passed and she hardly had a single one. That is, until now.

The only thing that occurred to her was the simple fact that her birthday was in four months, but only because a tiny, almost nonexistent voice reminded her. Could it be that her subconscious was trying to warn her of something she stuffed deep inside a Pandora's Box? What could be so terrible she had to be plagued by her memories?

Then it hit her; the truth had been staring her in the face her whole life and she never noticed. These weren't just nightmares, they were _memories._ Memories that had bubbled to the surface by the shifting anxieties of her eleventh birthday and a new school. After reading all the books Sarah had on magic and whatever she could read while at the various book shops in Diagon Alley, the only comforting fact was that Mike would be there, too. Of course, ending up in the same house as him would be an issue, as well.

This is what the walk was meant to help Alex figure out, but all it did was hand her more questions. Would she never know why she fretted so?

"Hey freak show!" a boy yelled over. She ignored it, knowing the voice all too well. Quickening her pace, she turned down an alley to elude them, only to find herself trapped at a dead-end. "Little squirrely made it easy for us." taunted the same boy. Alex silently cursed herself for not taking Mike along. He wasn't as big as these boys, but he was one hell of a fighter when it came to protecting her.

Turning to face them, she saw three of the usual five. Jackson, the gang's leader, was in the front while John and Rex stood on either side and slightly behind. They were all much older and much bigger than her. John and Rex were much more built than Jackson, but that was simply because they did all the hard work in his gang. Though Alex wasn't fooled by Jackson's smaller build. Just like with Mike, he could hold his own when it came down to it. It was because of this trait in Mike that Jackson had tried to recruit him quite a few times before giving up and resorting to beating the hell out of him whenever he got a chance. This was why Mike worked out so often, making sure he would never let her down when the time came. Too bad she didn't follow his lead.

The first time she ran into Jackson and his boys, she made the mistake of assuming they wouldn't hit a girl. A cracked rib, twelve bruises, and a black eye later, she swore to Mike she'd never go into town alone again. And she didn't...until today.

"What? Forgot your little boyfriend?" Jackson sneered. There was something in his eye that scared Alex much more than any oncoming beating did. St. Mungo's Hospital could heal any injury they inflicted on her in seconds. The glint in his viewpoints, however, told of a wound that ran far deeper than the flesh. Her eyes widened in fear when he licked his lips. He was hungry for _her._

Now Alex was a pretty girl, as she's been told by a few. However, just breaking into puberty didn't make her very developed at all. Hell, she hadn't even started having her period yet! What kind of sick bastard was this? Jackson stepped forward and she stepped back; his gang followed. This continued until her back was against the wall and she was on top of her. She turned away and squeezed her eyes shut. She could feel his hot breath on her neck, hands on her waist. She balled her hands into fists, nails procuring blood.

He started kissing her neck, moving a leg between hers. This was when Alex started fighting. Bringing her knee up she nailed him right in the sweet spot He doubled over, not expecting her to fight back, and she slammed her elbow down onto his back. She ran when he dropped, barely dodging his two henchmen. Then she met the two she didn't see earlier. They caught her before she could exit the alley, dragging her back to Jackson and throwing her on the ground in front of him.

"Fucking bitch!" he yelled, kicking her in the gut as revenge. "This could have been easy for you, pleasurable, even. But no, you had to go and be a little shit." Again she kicked him, and she heard something crack in her side. How many bones of hers would he break before she could get away? The two that had prevented her escape went back to guarding the only way out at Jackson's nod. Alex's heart sank deep into the earth, brain realizing what was going to happen.

Then, her body kicked into full gear. Just prior to Rex and John snatching her up, she made a second beeline for the road, only this time she didn't even make it to the guards before Jackson grabbed her himself, throwing her into the wall behind them. The lights went out and she crumpled to the ground, completely at the mercy of a man who now saw red.

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It was dark when she woke, clothes ripped and body thoroughly beaten. Disoriented, she tried her legs to find they wouldn't hold her. Hysterical sobs rattled her broken ribs as she held herself in a tight ball. She felt violated, and would later learn she indeed was. How could she have let this happen to herself? Why did she have to be so selfish and prideful to leave without the protection of Mike? A quiet rage she never knew herself to be capable of welled up inside her. She wanted nothing more than to tear the boys apart and devour their souls, and it terrified her.

It was in this moment of complete low that she discovered the reason for her surfacing memories. Her mother was a prisoner in the magic-world prison Azkaban. Alex was sure if she saw her picture somewhere she'd recognize her instantly-it wasn't a face she was able to forget. She was born in a prison, birthed from two people who were probably evil as could be. She was born of darkness, and darkness was her nature. Could it be this was her purpose in life, to destroy pitiful muggles who did nothing but reign hell in her life, their false power demeaning in the face of wizardry?

A vision of Mike appeared in her mind's eye, the memories they've made in the past five years ringing clear. She recalled the arrival of two-year old Sissy, how she brought laughter and love into the orphanage freshly, making friends with everyone living there. Alex thought herself doing right by them, being led to goodness and strength through their love and support. They were her family, and the exact thing that, in that very moment, convinced her that her future was not written in her bloodline. She swore right then and there to only do the best she could and work from love, not the burning rage that muddled deep inside her. She decided to never be like her parents, whoever they were.

With this she blacked out for the second time that day, the pain of her injuries too much to acknowledge any longer.

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We sat there in silence as Mike held me tight, drinking in my words. He knew I was badly beaten, and he had an idea as to who did it. However, he never once knew the _details_ as to what happened to me. I made the nurse who performed the rape kit (even witches and wizards used this muggle technique, since no spell or incantation could give back something taken away so devastatingly) to swear she'd not tell anyone about it. I even forced her to the unbreakable promise, something I'm sure she regretted to this day.

"I'm so sorry I didn't find you earlier." he whispered heavily.

"I'm sorry I left without you."

I fell asleep there in his arms, at peace for the first time in months. It seems talking about my ordeal was _exactly_ what I needed, although I knew my issues with what happened were far from over. Thankfully, Mike would always be there to listen. He was my rock, my friend, my salvation.

He single-handedly kept me alive.

**The next chapter may take me a little bit, since I gotta brush up on a few things Hogwarts-y before I put anything down in writing. I also gotta figure out house placements. Yay... Please be patient with me as I figure out how to jump into schooling. It most definitely won't be done this weekend, so I wouldn't advise checking up. Hopefully it will be done next weekend, but no guarantees, I still got school to balance this with. Thanks again for all feedback, it really does mean a lot. Hope you like my take on the ever popular story. :)**


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